It's a Long Way Down
by Lexi Derecks
Summary: A songfic(?) I did for a friend. Suicide warnings. DaveJohn.


It was over. No matter how many times he said that to himself he couldn't believe it. The game was over, nothing more to worry about. His friends, they were alive. He was alive. No one would ever die again. No one. Not for a long, long time. Everything was ok.

But it wasn't. Everyone said everything was fine, but no matter how many times he heard that he couldn't believe it. The disasters, the loss, the pain, it was there. It was real. It was in him. No matter how much he wanted it away, Dave couldn't do it. He hated himself for it. It hurt. Everyday. No matter what he had done, who he had saved, all he could remember was the death and the pain and the loss. It was horrible.

But bit by bit, he thought he was getting better. He convinced himself he was fine. That he would get over it, that he was just being a pussy. But he couldn't handle it.

He didn't want anyone around him. They all seemed so over it. Like they never really connected to it. But he couldn't handle it. It hurt the most when he was around John. His feelings for his friend, had been pent up for a long time, since the game. And now it seemed that John was the only one who saw through the poker face he put on.

John was the best. Always talking to him. Always trying to help. But Dave couldn't even stand his touch. It burned. No matter what they had both been through, he was still burned by it. No matter what John said, no matter how often he was reassured, he was still afraid he was going to be hurt, or worse, John would be.

So that's when he decided it. Alone in his room, he sat down and wrote. "I can't do it anymore. You guys go on. You can. I'm out. Love you guys." He sat that one out in plain sight. On his bed. But he pulled off a corner and wrote. "I mean it John. I loved you. I'm sorry." But he couldn't He couldn't do that. He crumpled it and threw it away. He pulled one of his many swords off the wall, and the deed was done in silence.

John was the one to find him. Of course. They were gonna hang out. Play video games. But when John didn't open up, he went in. Only to find a broken and bloodied Dave with the end of a shitty katana protruding from his back. He was hysterical. Of course, he quickly called Rose and Jade. They were there before he knew what was happening. Jade pulled him out. Rose called 911. She found the note. Reading it, even she couldn't keep calm.

John was still hysterical. He couldn't wrap his head around it. It wasn't the game. Dave was really dead. He couldn't be. He would come back. He would come back, one day. Within the next week, Jade and Rose cleaned out Dave's room. John couldn't handle it. It was Jade who found the crumpled up piece of paper by the trash. She gave it to John. Never reading it, only knowing he needed to see it. She nor Rose ever understood why John broke down completely when he read it.

Who knew that idiot felt the same way? He always took Dave for granted. His idiotic ironic jokes, his insults, everything. He was gone though. There was an empty hole left in everyone's heart where that asshole used to be. Three years passed. John's secret hope of Dave returning died. He wished constantly that Dave were still around.

He was just lost. He would give anything to have Dave back. Anything at all. But there was nothing he could do. The others had moved on, forgotten. But that scrap of paper, that last word, made John unable to do that. Dave loved him. He loved Dave. Or, he had. Dave was gone. Dave was gone forever. Who knew that would happen. John knew the game had left some scars, seeing your friends die would. He knew Dave had the worst of it, but he never knew it hit him this hard.

Everywhere John went, something reminded him of Dave. Sunglasses, swords, it even got to the point he couldn't bring himself to look at blonde haired people without breaking down. He started staying inside. Rose and Jade were worried, but he always had excuses. Even Rose eventually gave up trying to break his emotional shell.

He wouldn't go on like this anymore. He couldn't. Loving Dave when he was gone... Well, it was suicide. He wanted suicide. He wanted it more than anything. Dave loved him. He should see Dave again. He had the right to. He had as much as he could take. So one night, he went to the roof of his apartment building. It was always empty this late. Cars and street lights glowed below.

He stood on the edge, and looked down. Passing cars were thin so late. Hardly anyone would see. He closed his eyes and fell off, falling slowly, or so it seemed for him. Love sure was a long way down.


End file.
